


Where No Man Goes

by Eliante



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Borneo, East Indies, Emotional, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Indonesia, Post-Uncharted 4: A Thief's End, Post-Uncharted: The Lost Legacy, Romance, Sam is a shameless flirt and you kind of dig it, Treasure Hunting, cultural immersion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:21:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27506779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eliante/pseuds/Eliante
Summary: West-Kalimantan, Indonesian Borneo. You come to Pontianak for a minor task at a museum exhibition. There you meet Sam Drake, and he takes you where you never thought you will go.Contains spoilers for Uncharted 4 from chapter 4.
Relationships: Samuel Drake/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First Uncharted and /Reader fic. My hand kept slipping from past tense into present tense so I let it be present tense.  
>   
> Let's see how this goes.

You stand at the window of the Museum Negeri Kalimantan Barat, the most famous museum in Pontianak. The evening sun rays announce the end of your work day, with only a few minutes left. You were sent here as a representative and caretaker of ancient historic items that had been borrowed for the monthly exhibition. Even though they had local guards to protect the valuable items, it was a matter of representation, and your work place back home had chosen you for this task.  
Thus the Indonesians were quick to put you up like a mannequin walking amidst the western artefacts to provide a feeling of authenticity for the visitors. In the end this was a small and almost meaningless task, which was probably why none of your colleagues had volunteered, but you were fine with it, it was only for a few weeks anyway.

Though the sun was heating up the land outside, the whole building was exceptionally cooled with air conditioners running round-the-clock, not for the visitors and the staff, but mainly to protect all delicate artefacts that could not last in the extensive heat. Most were set up in showcases, but even those could heat up and eventually cause damage to the valuables. All of the staff were used to the arctic chills, besides you of course, who - despite the relatively warm business suit you were wearing during working hours - had caught a cold on the first week of arriving here because of the temperature difference to outside. But that cold had gone by as easily as it came, the tropical climate had worked in your favour. 

“Excuse me” The grounded voice of a man with a distinctively American accent awakes you from your thoughts. You turn around and see a man dressed in a light-coloured Hawaiian shirt - yes, definitely American - and a dark pair of jeans; he is tall, with white skin, dark eyes and brown hair in gentle waves past the ears. The humidity was surely something that left their traces on Caucasian westerners, and you could see the ever so slight traces of sweat around his collar, right below the tattoo of birds on his neck.  
“Yes?” you answer him.  
“I, uh,” He fumbles out his pack of cigarettes and holds it up at the level of his chest, “was looking for a place where I can smoke.” He chuckles, overcoming with it the distance of two strangers meeting in a strange land.  
“Anywhere outside, sir.” you answer with a formal smile.  
“Wasn’t there a _designated smoking area_?” he wonders, pausing shortly before he mentions the spot that he had possibly read about on one of the guide maps.  
“You probably mean the one in the gardens, yes.” you answer politely. “If you follow up the way to the last exhibition hall, turn--”  
“I get lost here so easily.” he interrupts you with an overwhelmingly charismatic smile, “I know it’s a lot to ask, given that I am just a random tourist, but would you show me the way?”  
Though the museum is about to close, you cannot help but find the interruption and way of speaking awfully charming. You smile, then nod and walk ahead.  
“Follow me.”

“Tuan ini mau merokok. Saya menemaninya ke kebun.” you explain when passing one of the local museum attendants.  
“Baiklah.” he laughs and steps aside as you walk through the hall. Shortly before the closing hours it was not guaranteed he would let you pass, but given your explanation, a local could hardly say no to an honoured guest, considering their customs of hospitality.

After passing the halls devoid of visitors, you lead him to the area he was looking for in the gardens.  
“You’re making me look bad for barely speaking the language.” he comments as he rests on the bench and you laugh, unsure how to reply. You settle for treating him like a visitor and turn around to leave, but he protests.  
“Wait. They might not let me back inside if you are not with me.” he insists and you raise your eyebrows in surprise. Was he making excuses for you to stay? You decide to play along and sit down next to him, but with a noticeable distance between the two of you.  
“I don’t speak the local dialect but they understand me.” you confess.  
“It sounds perfect to me but what would I know.” He takes out a cigarette and holds out the pack for you, offering. You shake your head hesitantly.  
“I just recovered from a cold.” you reason more with yourself than with him. It feels so refreshing to talk to him that you barely notice how you get carried away. You have not spoken to another foreigner outside of work for more than a week after all. At least not in person.  
“You caught a cold? In this weather?” he asks after lighting his cigarette, tugging at his shirt to let the air circulate beneath it, hinting at the heat.  
“It gets to you when you’re in the air-conditioned halls all day.” you justify yourself and he chuckles.  
“You’re from the States?” he asks but you only give him an enigmatic smile and he joins with a soft smile once he notices it.

A few drags from his cigarette long you spend in quiet, then you feel his fingers run up to your left hand, framing your ring finger as he raises your hand.  
“Looks like no one is waiting for you back home?”  
You gasp at his comment and pull your hand away immediately.  
“Careful” you warn him and with a soft nudge of your head hint at the museum guard at the entrance in front of you, “They might get the wrong impression.”  
“Ohh, gotcha” He raises his hands in defence instantly, the cigarette still between his fingers, “Muslim country.”  
Despite the act you feel your lips curve to a bashful grin.

“Here” he begins and places the cigarette from his right hand into his left, then takes your hand in his right for handshake, “Let’s pretend I just wanted to introduce myself like a common westerner.”  
You look at both of your hands and though you grasp his, you do not shake it. The touch feels good, not too strong, not overly weak. And you keep staring at his slightly rough manly hands that make yours look rather petite in comparison.  
“You forgot how a handshake works, Pocahontas?” he asks and in his grasp gently moves your hand with words of accomplishment - if not praise - following, “There we go.”  
His left hand flat on his chest while balancing the cigarette skilfully, he begins to introduce himself.  
“I am Samuel. Everyone calls me Sam.”  
You tell him your name and he repeats it after you, trying to master it with the same intonation you used. Then your hands slowly part, yours falling back into your lap.

As he puts out his cigarette, the two of you get up and go back inside, past the halls and towards the entry.  
“Come outside with me for a minute” he requests discreetly, standing close to you and letting no one but you notice the movement of his lips and the sound of his voice.  
“I can’t.” you answer, lingering at the entrance, preventing the automatic sliding doors from closing.  
“Just one minute.” he pleads, his gaze on you so urging that you give in.

His arms lean against the wooden fence at the entrance and you come to the spot beside him.  
“I just got here and I am already at my wit’s end. I need someone like you. You speak the language and you know your way around.” he confesses, and you startle a little at the stranger’s request.  
“You mean you need a translator?” you ask.  
“Not just that.” He shakes his head as he turns towards you, only one arm left resting on the fence. “Have dinner with me tonight. It will be on me.”  
“There is many professional translators here. I am sure you will be able to find someone if you ask at your local embassy. They will be eager to work with you.” you answer with a polite smile.  
“No, I want _you_.” he says with depth in his voice, “I am not asking for just a translator and I will pay you for your services.”  
You gasp as you realize what indecent act he could be implying.  
“My services?” you ask with a hint of shock.  
“Not _that_ kind of services.” A deep chuckle leaves his throat. “I want your professional service - your expertise on artefacts, your knowledge of the area.”  
You look at him in doubt, but he says your name, softly, inducing a sense of trust before he tells you more.  
“This is something you could be interested in as well. I have come across information on a lost treasure but I can't do this alone. I know you are just cut out for this job.”  
“But... why me?” You frown at him.  
“You know this part of the country better than anyone else here. And I don’t trust the Indonesians. Those mortuary effigies in the current exhibition? They are fakes.”  
“The ones from Sulawesi? How can you be so sure?” you ask.  
“They are nowhere close to the size of the originals. Those figurines might at best be miniatures, at worst they will tell you they are the actual sacred effigies from Sulawesi. Go ask them why they aren’t bigger. They’ll probably make up some excuses.”  
The explanation makes you chuckle. You are far from an expert in mortuary effigies but you know that the Indonesians indeed have a thing for twisting the truth when it comes to evangelizing their cultural diversity and unique tribal art.

“Alright. I will have dinner with you.” you reply after a moment of consideration. You are intrigued, but you cannot afford to talk outside much longer. You need to wrap this up and go back inside. “But I can’t promise I will be in on whatever you are planning.”  
“That’s all I am asking for. Just a friendly dinner.” he confirms with a smile and you stand there quietly for a second before you consider leaving, but he speaks up again. “Funny. I knew there was a foreign representative here. But I didn’t know it was a woman.”  
“Lucky you then.” you comment with a grin.  
“Yeah” he says and a long uninterrupted look into your eyes follows. “Lucky me.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam lets you in on his plan.

Wearing a short-sleeved dress matching the small purse around your shoulder in its shade of cream, you sit in a cab that drives you to downtown Pontianak. The car stops and you pay the driver, but the moment you close the car door behind you, you realize you forgot your cardigan at home. You had changed in a rush with practically no time to shower and in between cursed yourself for agreeing to meet up so early while giving your legs a quick shave over the bath tub.  
“But the restaurants close so early.” Sam had said earlier. It was true. Meeting up much later would not have made sense. Too bad it had taken you longer than expected to wrap things up at work. Now it was too late to go back home, but it was fine. You would get through the night without a cardigan somehow.

As you walk the stairs up to the restaurant and enter, you are guided inside at the mention of your acquaintance’s name. The dark wooden interior strikes you as rustic, yet the glass plating of the tables comes of as elegant and modern. You reach Sam who sits at one of the tables at the windows, staring into the dark horizon and enjoying a beer. As he hears your steps, he turns around in his seat.  
“Good to see you. For a moment I was thinking you might not come.”  
“I take my promises seriously, Mr. Drake.” you answer, then lean over to him for a request. “Do you mind if we sit outside?”  
He looks at you curiously, then at your outfit and casually takes a hold of your bare forearm.  
“You’re cold again?” he asks, examining the effect of the air conditioning on you. The touch only lasts a split second, then he lets go and gets up with the drink in his hand, walking over to the terrace seats with you.

“I would offer you my shirt but I am not wearing anything beneath.” he explains with a grin. Now you eye the grey shirt that has a tighter fit than the one he wore to the museum, the V-shaped cut showing off some of his chest.  
“All the better” you joke, grinning back. In reaction he grasps the seam of his shirt, pretending to take it off, but eventually only lifts it a few inches teasingly before letting the fabric drop again. You both chuckle, and you try hard not to think about the scars you saw on his stomach for a fleeting moment.  
The waiter brings the menu and you order. Sam tries to banter with him in English, then in broken Indonesian, amusing all three of you.

While people around you come and go, Sam and you talk the night away until there is only the two of you at the terrace. You keep yourselves entertained discussing an array of common interests: history, art, literature, and something about the East Indies which you pretend to know more of than you do so you can keep hearing him talk. A strange warm feeling arises in you as he tells you about the historic events and legends you know nothing of.

Sam grasps your attention again when he goes on about the Dutch East Indies and foreign cultural influences.  
“You’re right. The Indian influences on South-East Asia are strong, even here - there’s signs of Hinduism everywhere.” you state.  
“Exactly.” He points out a finger towards you. “See, that’s the expertise I was talking about. That’s why I want you in on this.”  
“In on what? You still haven’t told me what this is all about.” you say, pushing your plate aside after the countless rounds of food you had and letting your elbows rest on the table. He tugs at his shirt for a moment to let in some cooling air, then leans over to be closer to your face. By now it has become so quiet that the only noise you can hear is the Indonesian pop music playing in the background. 

“Promise this stays between you and me.” he demands in a light, yet serious tone. You nod.  
“Promise.”  
Sam looks around discreetly before he continues to speak more quietly.  
“Have you heard of the shipwrecks around Belitung?” he asks. Again you nod.  
“Belitung? You’re interested in ancient chinaware?”  
“It’s not just china.” he corrects you, “The sea in that area was always known to sink ships. There must be at least half a dozen on the ground.”  
“And most of their cargo was either recovered or plundered by pirates.” You knew that much.  
“Not all of it.” Sam points out, holding out his hand to grab your attention. Then he pulls out a few sheets of printed paper and hands them to you. You take them and see pictures of two artefacts on the first page: an antique elaborate golden headpiece on the left, and another picture that shows the same headpiece but as part of a statuette on the right.  
“Is this a Hindu God? Wait, is this Vishnu?” you ask, pointing at the mythical figure that wears the cylindrical golden headpiece.  
“Yes. It’s Vishnu’s crown we’re talking about here.” He names it crown, but it definitely looks more like a bejewelled hat to you, different from the crown you usually see him wearing. Quietly you read the information text below the 3D-rendered graphic. 

_Kirita Mukuta. The one who bears this crown is the Sovereign ruler._

In the back of your mind you remember having seen depictions of Vishnu wearing a headpiece like this but you cannot recall having seen it on its own.  
“I’ve never heard of this crown. What is this? Gold? It’s massive...” you mumble in awe.  
“It is. The net worth alone is half a million. It’s on the ground of a sunken ship, that’s why you never heard of it.” he replies and it becomes obvious to you why the picture of the crown is not an actual photo. When you look through the rest of the printed material, your gaze falls on a map with notes.  
“Java Sea? This could be anywhere between Kalimantan and Java” you look at him in astonishment, but he draws an invisible circle with his hand on the map.  
“It's rumoured to be on the East Coast of Belitung.” he reaffirms, “You can go there by boat.”

“To the _East Coast of Belitung_?” you repeat while looking at him, the judgement noticeable in your tone. “It would take a day to get to the island. No one goes there like that. It’s easier to reach from Jakarta by plane.” In fact, all Indonesian islands could be easiest reached from Jakarta by plane.  
“You can’t get to the shipwreck from Belitung. You need permits for that.” he states.  
“You don’t have diving permits?” you ask, but he shrugs.  
“I suppose I could-- draw you some if you insist?” he jokes. “Don’t you see how this works in our favour? No one goes there from here so no one is going to check on us. They’ll think we’re just some crazy tourists cruising around... which we technically are.” He chuckles but you give him a defeated smile.  
“This is getting better and better.” you sigh and start wondering who he means by _we_ and if he had already gathered a crew to go with him. A whole crew of crazy tourists to hunt down a long-lost treasure.

Restlessly flicking through the pages, you realize the shipwreck is not the Belitung wreck with the chinawares you suspected, but a fleet that had been on a diplomatic mission, the HMS Alceste.  
“But-- It’s a vessel for diplomatic use, not for the trade of valuables. Are you sure you are not mistaken on this?” You give him a look of doubt.  
“Yes, William Amherst’s ship. He’s the diplomat.” Sam shifts closer to you and flicks through the pages, showing you additional information on Amherst’s diplomatic mission to China. You read the additional notes that say Amherst brought a diplomatic gift from India to China, and that it was last seen when he boarded the ship. Then you look at the official records of the journey.

“Here. _Voyage of his Majesty’s Ship Alceste to China, Corea and Lewchew_ ” Sam points out the highlighted part in the copied historical record, then reads it to you, “ _Many valuable presents, supplied, as on the former occasion, by the East-India Company, for the Emperor and his Ministers, consisting of specimens of our improved manufactures, made by the first hands, were also prepared_.”  
“Supplied by the East-India Company...” you repeat thoughtfully, “But how would they get such a prestigious gift?”  
“Amherst was already stationed in British-controlled India before his diplomatic task. So he brought Vishnu’s crown as gift to the Emperor of China, hoping to impress him with the powerful relic.”  
“And then his ship sunk?” you assume.  
“No, he actually made it to China.” he explains, chuckling in anticipation, “But his manners were so terrible that he couldn’t establish a diplomatic relationship. His mission failed, so he had to go back home. _Then_ his ship sunk.”  
“Wow, bad luck. And bad diplomacy.”  
“Well, it’s all about the manners.” Sam replies, “But that’s good for us because he took that gift back with him. And now it’s buried in the sea.”

“I’m impressed how thorough your research is” you say as you make mental notes on the information you gather from the texts laid out in front of you, “But I still don’t understand. Why am I here? How am I supposed to help you?”  
“You’ll come with me.” he answers as if it was the most natural thing in the world. You look from the sheets of information over to him and see his overly bright, charming smile.  
“To the shipwreck?!” The shock in your voice is stressed by the widening of your eyes. “I can’t. I have to work. I am only here for work, in fact.”  
“You have Saturdays and Sundays off. By law.” he negotiates.  
“It’s a _day-long_ trip.” you remind him.  
“It’s not as far as you think. We’ll drive to the coast in the evening and sleep at a lodge there. That way we can get to the spot where the ship sunk by noon. We grab it and go straight home. Easy. Though it would help immensely if you could fake a sick day so that we have more time. The air conditioning, you know?” He winks at you. You shake your head and your hand comes to the information on the table, gesturing at the probability of this to work.  
“Even _if_ , let’s say, the ship is still there. Why would the crown be? The pirates have long taken everything.”  
“Everything but the crown.” he corrects you. “It’s Vishnu’s crown - it’s poisoned. They would not dare to touch it. Besides, it’s never been listed on the black market.”  
“What do you mean it’s poisoned?” you ask in a concerned tone.  
“Well, it’s common for the powerful Indian gifts to have some sort of curse on them so only the rightful rulers may possess them. Because only they can resist the curse, obviously. The Asians all know about it. No sane Malay pirate would touch a cursed religious artefact.”  
“It’s not dangerous to us? What if our boat sinks like Amherst’s ship because we don’t prove worthy to bear the crown?” you ask, pointing to the description of the artefact you read earlier but he waves it off right away.  
“It won’t. It’s ancient tales, nothing more. It’s not like we will _bear_ the crown anyway. We’re just stealing it. And selling it to the highest bidder.”  
“Oh yeah, stealing surely doesn’t bring the wrath of the Gods onto us.” you scoff. “Are you even sure this crown is real? Sometimes things like that only have a symbolic value.”  
“Variations of it have been seen and claimed as real.” He pauses before he continues to speak in a reassuring tone. “There is records that say it exists. And if it exists, it must be buried in that sea.”  
You consider his words, but he interrupts your thoughts again.

“I’ll tell you what, I will gather some more information and narrow the area down until Saturday. Then we’ll know exactly where to look. I have an associate who can get us a boat.” he explains and continues enthusiastically about the details, the excursion, the treasure and how you will split the proceeds between the two of you. So it would really be just you and him. As you listen, your hand finds its way to your forehead while your arm is propped up on the table. Sam breaks off mid-sentence as he sees the troubled look on your face and you look up from the notes and into his eyes at the sudden silence.  
“I don’t know. I just don’t think I can do this.” you say.  
“Sleep on it. You don’t have to decide right away.” he advices you in a gentle tone.

You cannot believe you are considering going out into the deep sea with a stranger, alone. He does not pressure you, and you feel comfortable with him, but yet reasons why you should call this off slip into your mind. You feel unprepared and unfit for the journey.  
“I’ve never even been diving.” you say, chuckling at your own short-comings.  
“I’ll be diving.” he calms you instantly, “You’ll be the one watching my back. But I’ll give you a crash course if you want so we can go diving together. With the right equipment it’s easy.”  
The way Sam has an immediate solution to any problem and his confident way of talking make you feel incredibly safe. This was crazy, and yet it was the opportunity of a lifetime. At worst, this was just a little trip and maybe a day of work missed. Involuntarily you lower your hand to the table and grin at him.  
“What?” he asks with a one-sided smile. “You’re in? Because you look like you’re in.”  
“I think... I’m in.” You nod hesitantly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kept editing this to get the details right so it came out longer than expected.  
> No idea if (William P.) Amherst was actually stationed in India before his mission to China and what diplomatic gifts he brought along.
> 
> [Historical record of the diplomatic journey](https://archive.org/details/in.ernet.dli.2015.502064/page/n13/mode/1up)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have doubts about your premature decision and want to talk to Sam about it. (Or maybe you just really want to see him again.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Nowhere can man find a quieter or more untroubled retreat than in his own soul_  
>   
>  \-- Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

The next day you go to work with a smile on your face. You could still not believe you had agreed yesterday. Head over heels you were going into this big treasure hunt and you could not even grasp what was actually happening.  
But by the time you were on your lunch break, sitting in the small break room with a plate of food in front of you, you were looking at Sam’s number in your phone. Something was off about the whole thing after all. You were trusting a stranger with your life - why were you so incredibly trusting and naive? What if you could not find the treasure? A big amount of your savings would be gone for this one adventure that in the end was nothing but a dive into the darkness. Maybe it would be better to call this off.  
You contemplate it for a while, then call his number.

When he answers his phone, the sound of his voice brings a sudden sense of intimacy. He still is the only non-Indonesian that you speak with lately and it draws you to him.  
He calls your name in a questioning manner as you do not answer.  
“Oh yeah, hey.” you finally snap out of your thoughts. “I was just wondering what you were doing.”  
“Didn’t pick you for the type to like small talk.” he laughs. “I’m about to meet up with a contact. What about you?”  
“I’m having lunch.”  
“What are you having?” Even though you cannot see him, you can hear his smile through his tone.  
“Chicken... and rice.”  
“Chicken on rice, mhhh, Kalimantan gourmet cuisine.” he muses and chuckles, which makes you laugh. Then it becomes awkwardly silent.  
“Is everything alright?” he double-checks.  
“Yes. I am just... I am unsure about that whole thing we talked about yesterday.” you tell him and he pauses for a moment.  
“I understand that. I didn’t mean to rush you. If it’s too soon we could wait for next week.” he says empathetically.  
“I don’t know. Do you think we can talk later?”  
“Sure.” he says cheerfully. “I could meet you downtown tonight if you want.”  
“That sounds good.”

Another night, a different dress, and today with a cardigan in your medium-sized handbag, you again step out of the cab after paying the driver. You go to a different restaurant, but as yesterday, you find Sam waiting, this time right at the seats outside. You manage to arrive before the sun sets so that the view of a beautiful orange-tinted sky is welcoming you.  
“Always the gentleman?” you ask when you come up to him. It was considerate to ask exclusively for terrace seats, however he had managed it, and you appreciate the gesture. Even if it meant the cardigan would find no use.  
“Trying.” he says, then grins, “I’ve also ordered your favourite: chicken on rice.”  
“Really?”  
He shakes his head and you both laugh. When you sit next to him on the bulky yet elegant outdoor sofa, you find the proximity a little intimidating but also exciting. You look over to the warm skyline again.  
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he asks and you nod. The place has a more relaxed atmosphere than the rustic place from last night. The cushioned wooden furniture invites you to relax and enjoy all sorts of appetizers that the menu provides. He shifts a little closer to you in his seat once you have ordered and you look to him.

“So. You’re getting cold feet?” he asks with a gentle smile.  
“No... No, it’s not like that. I am just feeling unsure about a lot of things.”  
He chuckles as you explain yourself, loosening up the mood.  
“I’ve told you to sleep on it. It’s fine if you have doubts. Though what makes you worry?”  
“Everything.” You admit and laugh nervously, “Starting with the fact that I barely know you.”  
“Well, we are getting to know each other, aren’t we?” He really has a way to ease your concerns; it is not so much his words as it is his calm yet cheerful tone. Your drinks and food arrive and are set in front of you.  
“The Indonesians really love their fried chicken.” Sam mentions as he picks the cutlery from the provided basket and looks through the assorted dishes you two ordered.  
“You could have ordered something else.” you say with a grin.  
“Who said _I_ don’t like it?” he answers and takes a piece of each of the dishes on a separate plate, then hands it to you.  
With a smile you thank him and take it, then fish out the cutlery for yourself while Sam prepares his own plate.

Quietly you watch him eat. He has a somewhat manly way of eating, sitting with his legs comfortably apart. Your gaze lands on his hands and how they firmly hold the plate. It makes you remember the time he took your hand at the museum the other day. You look away as you realize he looks up and catches your gaze. You must have been staring too long. God, you were starved.  
“Tastes good?” he asks in between bites and you nod. He smiles.  
“So, I was catching up with that contact today.” he starts and you listen attentively, pleasantly surprised about his open way of communicating. “I think I can get that boat ready for Saturday, it will be waiting for us by the coast. And I will gather some more information on how to pinpoint the location of that shipwreck down.”  
“You seem to know awfully many people.” you comment with a smile, still finding it strange that he chose someone like you to accompany him on this trip. Maybe he just is that kind of crazy tourist.  
“They are all Indonesians.” He shrugs. “Besides most are a contact’s contact, not really mine. I haven’t been in the business for way too long.”  
Slowly you start to get an understanding on Sam’s background.  
“In the business? What business?” you ask.  
“This treasure-hunt-diving-going-reckless-and-insane business.” He gestures with his hand holding the fork. “Call it what you want.”  
“What have you done before then? Took a long break from going reckless and insane?” you ask curiously.  
“Yeah. You could say that.” he nods and you get the impression it is better not to dwell on it. He sets off his plate on the table and wipes his fingers on the provided napkin.  
“What about you? What have you been doing?” he asks and looks over to you, leaning back in his seat.  
“Not a whole lot. My life is probably way less exciting than yours.” you chuckle. “School, university, travelling, working. Mostly some variation of working or studying.”  
“That’s how it goes.” he answers. “You have to make sure to live a little between all that routine.”  
“To go a little crazy and insane?” you ask.  
“Something along those lines. Gotta be reckless _sometimes_. It’s all about the balance” he states and takes one of the banana-leaf wrapped snacks.  
As you watch his hands slowly unwrapping the delicacy, he stops suddenly and you look into his eyes, realizing that he noticed your stare again. He takes the piece of cake out from the leaf package and holds it between his fingers for a moment, studying it. But instead of eating it himself, he looks at you.  
“You look very hungry, you know that?” he comments with the hint of a smirk. You grin and your gazes meet before you shift a little closer, as if in an unspoken agreement. His hand with the treat reaches out to meet your lips and you open your mouth. As he places the delicacy and you feel it on your tongue, you also feel his fingers brushing your lips subtly. While you taste the cake, remembering the ghostly touch of his hand, he licks the sticky cake’s residue of his fingertips and looks at you with a grin.

“There is one thing I need you to arrange for us.” he speaks, announcing a change of mood. He pulls a sheet of paper out of his pocket and hands it to you. As you take it, you read the contact information of a car hire company, several notes about car specifics written beneath it by hand.  
“You think you can arrange us one like that?” he asks while you read and you nod.  
“I’ll take care of it first thing in the morning.”  
“Great. Just make sure they don’t rip us off.” he says, taking one more of the banana leaf wrapped delicacies and eating it after unwrapping it.  
“Damn these are good” he mutters to himself, then looks up and notices your stare on him. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”  
You shake your head.  
“It’s nothing.” you say and as you notice him studying you quickly come up with another topic. “I read into that book you talked about. By Marcus Aurelius.”  
“Meditations?” he asks, then looks confused, “How could you get a copy of it so quickly, in the middle of Borneo?”  
“E-Book.” you state plainly, but he still looks confused. “Like, an electronic book? A digital copy.”  
“Ohh.” he says, the uncertainty left in his gaze vanishing completely with his follow-up, “So how did you like it?”  
“I didn’t read the whole thing, but...” You sway your head to the side, not wanting to offend him with a too direct answer. “How did _you_ like it?”  
“There is interesting viewpoints that challenge your perspective, but it’s also very personal. I wouldn’t have considered it your taste.” He chuckles and you raise your eyebrows.  
“What would you consider my taste?”  
“Hard to tell.” He looks deeply into your eyes. “Something like One Hundred Years of Solitude by Marquéz?”  
You laugh at the suggestion and hit his arm gently.  
“Ow-- hey!” He rubs his arm, feigning offence but grinning.  
“Is that a metaphor?” you ask laughingly.  
“Maybe.” he chuckles. “Possibly more so about my life than yours.”  
“Oh yes. A handsome man like yourself must be spending his nights all lonely by himself.” you comment with irony in your voice.  
“Lonely nights are a cure of their own.” His hand gestures as he opens that perspective to you.  
“A cure for what?-- Wow, how many more of those are you going to eat?” you ask when you see him reaching for another treat and unwrapping it from the banana leaf. He stops in his tracks.  
“What, are you suggesting I am fat?” he asks in shock and one of his hands finds its way to his flat stomach, checking up on himself. As he notices you watching him again, his expression softens.  
“You just want me to lift my shirt again.” he laughs.

You wrap up dinner and take the elevator down to the ground level, walking out of the tall building complex. When you walk from the plaza towards the street, Sam suddenly stops and lingers, lighting a cigarette. You look at him in expectation as he blows out the smoke.  
“You still don’t trust me?” he wants to know.  
“It’s hard to trust someone you’ve just met.”  
“Come with me.” he suggests.  
“I already said I’ll come.” you reassure him.  
“That’s not what I meant.” He takes you by the hand and pulls you towards himself. You do not protest the proximity but you are hesitant. You know what he is implying.  
Before any answer forms in your head, Sam is quick to act. He looks around to make sure no one is watching you, then flips his cigarette away and pins you against a nearby wall where you are well hidden by the shadow of the building. Again you do not protest, even less so when his hands find their way around your waist. You lay your hands on his muscular arms while you look into his eyes.  
“I think you like the danger.” he says. Slowly he leans in, you close your eyes.  
“Sam, I--” you start but are interrupted by the feeling of his breath against your skin.  
Softly and briefly you feel his lips brush the corner of your mouth. Then he plants the ghost of a kiss just there, barely touching your lips. When you turn towards his lips only in the slightest, he leans away from you. But he remains close enough for you to take in the smell of burnt tobacco on his clothes, mixed with his cologne and a hint of musk.  
You sigh quietly, reminiscent of the touch. When you open your eyes, you are met with his deeply penetrating gaze on you. To your dismay, he chuckles and pulls away. Casually his hand takes yours and he walks you towards the nearby array of cabs.

“Sleep on it. There’s no need to rush.” he insists with a reassuring smile and taps the car’s roof once you sit inside, sending you off home alone. As you lean back in your seat and pass by the street lamps in the dark, you lick past the corner of your mouth and taste the tingling sweetness of the local clove cigarettes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You are making up excuses to see Sam and it turns out he cannot refuse you anything ( **explicit** ).

All day you can think of nothing but him. It was like you could still feel his hands on your body. In your mind, scenes start to unfold when you think of him for too long and you constantly check your phone. During your lunch break you decide to message him.  
_I really want to see you._  
_That bad, yeah? Should I be worried?_ comes as a text from him a few minutes later.  
_I just need an update_ you send him, but leave out any details. You probably need both kinds of updates, professional and private. But if he asks, you will say professional to not seem needy. Luckily he does not ask and agrees to come over to your place.  
_Looking forward to it_ is his last message after you send him your address. There is something warm-hearted about it, you can imagine him saying it in a soft-spoken tone.

It was strange. If what you had with Sam the past days were dates, they felt incredibly good and natural. There was no game-playing, you simply enjoyed each other’s company. You did not have to wait long for his reply to a text, he sounded genuinely happy whenever you called and when you saw him, you talked like you had known each other for years. There was always new things you wanted to talk about, and you loved listening to all of his stories. And there was that tension, the heat. Those little things he did with his hands, how your heart fluttered when he joked and smiled at you.  
It was almost too easy, too natural and that was what caused an uncomfortable feeling in your chest. You could not believe men like this really existed. But he had done nothing to betray your trust and you would not let fear ruining this beautiful experience. You knew right now you wanted nothing more than to simply be at his side.

As you take a cab at night, you are greeted at the doorstep of your apartment building by Sam holding a bouquet of white flowers, which surprises you.  
“These are for you.” he says as you walk up to him.  
“Really? ... Thank you” You are speechless as you look at the bouquet in your hands and smell the intoxicating scent. It has been a while since anyone was that affectionate with you.  
Unlocking the door, you walk upstairs with him. When entering your small apartment that has been arranged for your temporary stay, you head to the kitchen and find a fitting vase for the flowers in the overhead-board, then fill it with water and arrange the bouquet in it.

“Thank you. You’re very sweet” you say as he stands next to you and chuckles at your somewhat helpless reaction. His uninterrupted gaze in your eyes makes you nervous and you turn to the flowers on the counter.  
“What did you want an update on?” he asks breaking the silence.  
“Just... on how the preparations are going.” you say as planned.  
“Really?” he smirks and steps closer, “Because I don’t believe you.”

Only now you realize how mesmerized you are by the sun that shines through the wooden window panels into your living room and your attached open kitchen. The sun rays reach your hands, your face, you feel the warmth and when you turn towards Sam, you see the same shade of warm orange on him.  
You do not want to beg, and he will not make you beg - _thank God_ he will not make you beg. The moment you lay your hands on his chest, running up the collar of his shirt, it feels like the universe tells you he is already yours. On your waist you feel his hands instantly and your gaze comes from his chest into his eyes. There must have been a sultry look on your face, or else he would not have leaned in and kissed you, first softly, then without restraint. Your lips move against his as your body presses against him - you are not the master of your feelings anymore, indeed you are very much a slave to them. 

When one of his hands slides down to your ass and grabs it, you gasp and he takes the chance to let his tongue slip into your mouth. The gentle invasion brings you pleasure, you bloom in the soft yet dominant masculine energy he exerts and sigh into the kiss. His hand squeezes your ass and you feel your core heat merely at the fingertips so close to your entrance.

He seems to notice every wince and every sound you make as his hands keep pushing further. He threatens to drive you insane as the fingers keep casually digging into the space between the curve of your ass and your core while merely holding onto you. There is no doubt Sam knows exactly what he is doing. His tongue plays with yours with more greed, and his hand from your waist comes to your chin, holding you in place. You stop thinking straight, your tongue against his is all that matters. And his hands, you would kill to keep those hands on you.

In a matter of minutes the clothes come off until you both stand dressed only in your underwear. The last rays of the evening sun run past the wooden shutters, covering your skin in golden stripes. His hands run over your shoulders and arms, meanwhile his lips trail from your jawline to your neck, past your collar bone and finally to your chest. He opens the hooks of your bra, takes it off and his hands cup your breasts. Kissing them gently, he takes his time to work his tongue around your nipples. His lips graze up to your shoulder while his fingers make their way down, past your stomach and the only piece of fabric that is left on you. You sigh when you feel him run past your clit to your opening, and back to your clit again, over and over with the most casual, feathery touch.

“Sam” you sigh, your hands around his neck. “Did you... do you have anything to...”  
You want to ask him but you do not intend to ruin the mood. With his unoccupied hand he strokes your back reassuringly.  
“I do.” He says your name in the manner that makes you feel so comfortably safe. “Let yourself go. I’ll take care of you.”  
A nod comes from your side in agreement and his fingers enter and start fucking you gently.  
“Oh Sam” you moan, cheeks flushing slightly when you realize you call his name out again.

Your thoughts are in the sky when he guides you onto the bed. Teasingly his fingers play along your entrance while his lips are tracing your navel, tongue occasionally running along just where the seam of your underwear stops.  
His soiled fingers fumble out something from his pants on the floor and he pulls your underwear down your legs. It comes off, and you are fully exposed. You look over to him, your hands find his clothed hard length and you try to fit it into your palm, rubbing it first slowly, then faster and with a stronger hold onto him. He unwraps the condom while you pull down his underwear.  
His covered length settles at your entrance and slowly comes in, pulling your inner walls apart. Your trembling hands look for something to hold onto, graze over his arms and shoulders until he guides them to rest around his neck. A pleasant feeling rushes past you as he stretches you further, and when he reaches down all the way the pleasant wave turns into an unexpected push over the edge. You writhe beneath him and whine softly, then moan with your eyes closed.

When you open your eyes again, he chuckles deeply, his teeth showing in the playful, charismatic smile.  
“You wanna come again?” he asks, settled between your legs idly. Hesitantly, you nod.  
He begins moving, making you moan out again. You feel his warm body, your hot cores entangled and embrace him inside you with every thrust. You cannot quite believe how good it feels, even more so when you hear his soft grunts as he reaches deeply into you.  
A trail of sweat runs along his neck and reaches past the bird tattoo as he begins to move in a faster pace. His hand slips to your ass, giving you a gentle squeeze before he lifts your leg and puts it to rest against his chest with your ankle over his shoulder. A surprised gasp comes past your lips as he reaches even deeper and you cling to his arms settled on the mattress.  
“Does it hurt?” he asks and slows down for a moment.  
“No” you reply, shaking your head to avoid any confusion, “Please don’t stop”  
“You like having my cock inside you?” he teases and your insides clench in reaction.  
“I love it-- It feels so good. Please keep fucking me” you answer without giving it a thought. Before you start regretting it, he closes his eyes with a heavy sigh and begins to thrust back inside you, making you realize the effect of your words on him.  
“God, you’re such a wet mess now” he speaks under his breath and holds onto your leg, planting gentle kisses to your ankle. When he picks up his pace again, you feel fulfilled, and every time he drives his cock back inside, you notice the spark building.  
“Sam” You bite your lip, wondering how many times you could call a man’s name until it made you look needy. Your hand finds onto the side of his chest that is not occupied by your leg and he sighs your name, holding onto your hand. Merciless thrusts follow while he sighs at your tightening walls around him. You hear his voice reaching a pitch slightly higher than usual in what sounds like a soft whine as his hips slam against yours harder, eager to fill you. Watching his body move rhythmically on top of you sends shivers down your spine. The sweat running down your bodies, the sound of your wetness and hips coming together, it all pushes you further. You feel the heat and eventually you feel nothing but him.  
“Ah-- fuck--” you hear him say following up with your name in a low groan, and are driven insane by his released lust. His body moves in the last heavy thrusts, you see his tortured face when he comes and come almost simultaneously, crying out in pleasure.

Sam collapses on top of you and you welcome him with your arms around him. Once his breathing stabilizes he rolls off you with a sigh and disposes of the used condom. He lays an arm around you and your head finds its place on his chest.  
“That was really good.” he says with a content sigh.  
“ _Really_ good.” you agree. The post-coital silence lasts for a few seconds, then you look up to him. He involuntarily does a double-take and chuckles when he notices your stare.  
“Why do you always look at me like that?”  
“I don’t know... I can’t quite believe it.” You say, your hand tracing up his chest. “You smell so good.”  
“You can’t believe that I smell good?” he asks amused.  
“No... no-- everything. You smell so good, your lips feel so good.” You kiss him again to bring the sentiment back into your heart, he welcomes you with his hand reaching up to your neck. “I’m not used to this.”  
“Hmm” Sam hums in a pleased manner when your lips part, his eyes only opening after a moment that is spent lingering in the memory. “You’re quite a treat yourself. It seems you just haven’t found what’s right for you yet.”  
“What would be right for me?” You look at him expectantly.  
“Oh, I don’t know” he feigns ignorance while pulling you closer to himself, face nuzzling against the side of yours. “I’ll let you find out yourself I think.”

A smile comes to your lips, then your hand finds his and once your fingers are interlaced, your eyes close. A few seconds you spend in the comfort of his embrace, then your eyes open again and your attention is drawn to the faint marks on his stomach. Unwinding from his hand, your fingers ghost over the scars.  
“Say, what happened here?” you ask in an intimate whisper. A seemingly endless silence follows, so that you look up to him once more and he shifts in the embrace, but eventually looks at you. You start wondering if the question makes him uncomfortable.  
“That” he clears his throat to speak in a more firm tone, “is a long story.”  
“I have time” you say with a sly smile.  
“That was an understatement. It’s an _exhaustingly_ long story.” he corrects himself.  
“I have time.” you insist and he chuckles. A defeated sigh follows, then he starts telling you about his brother Nathan, about Rafe, the time in prison, how they thought he was dead, and the story of how he got back to life. He tells you about his search for the long-lost pirate treasure with Nathan. You listen attentively and ask questions occasionally which he happily answers. At times your fingers graze his body while he speaks, other times you look up at him and he plays with your hair absent-mindedly while going on about the events in his life.  
His tone is always light-hearted, yet you get the feeling that there is a deep side beneath all that. Even if he does not show it to you yet, you feel it present, and you thank him with a kiss to his chest for telling you about himself. You state that you feel closer to him, and slip in some details and stories about your own boring life, as you call it, then you both laugh together at the turn of events.

Not only by his way of talking, but also by his experiences - or possibly lack thereof as he had spent all that time locked away - you could tell Sam had this old-school way about him that one could no longer find in this world. If he asked a woman he liked out, he was serious about her. He was a gentleman, he treated you kindly, he would not impose anything on you that you did not truly want. One could talk about any subject with him because he was well-read and reflective, having had time to ponder worldly issues. He was adventurous and open-minded but kept parts of himself locked away. Although he would not openly admit it, there was also a romantic and idealistic side to him. When in doubt, he would try to keep things casual. Only when he was sure about something, he would allow himself to dive deeper and become vulnerable.

“Mind if I smoke at the window?” he asks, getting up and with his boxers back on.  
“Go ahead” you say and sit up in the bed when he is already fumbling out a cigarette from his pants and then stands at the balcony door, opening it. He lights the cigarette, inhales and then blows out the smoke into the dark sky that glitters with the other buildings’ lit windows.

“I didn’t know you like Kretek” you comment when finding your underwear on the bed and putting it back on.  
“Oh, these” Sam blows out the smokes and it takes him a moment to realize you talk about the local clove cigarettes. He holds the cigarette out for emphasis. “I’ve been told they are a local speciality that cannot be missed.”  
“The Indonesians lost a good customer on you” you chuckle and walk up to him, standing in front of him with a noticeable distance. You stop at the space where the shutters end, not wanting to shock anyone outside in your half-naked state. But Sam grasps your arm and pulls you close to him, so that your back rests against his chest with his arm around you.  
“They lost me to you, you mean?” he asks and places a kiss to your temple, so close to your eyelid that you squeeze your eye shut for a moment.  
“Yeah, I am obviously selling you all my services” You laugh and hold onto his arm around you, then look to the cigarette in his left hand. “Let me have a drag”  
Cautiously he leads his other hand to you and places the cigarette between your lips, hand ghosting over your face as you inhale.

“Finish it if you like” he offers and you take it from his hand, finishing what is left of it.  
“It sounds like it’s your first time to Indonesia.” you comment and put the smoke out against the outer walls, then close the sliding door and throw the bud into the nearby trash bin.  
“Haven’t had the chance to see much of Asia yet.” he answers as you come back to his side and frames your face with his hands. He leans in to kiss you longingly while your hands come running over his chest and stomach, then towards his clothed groin, finding the shape of his length beneath the fabric.  
“Fuck” he breathes, breaking the kiss, “Don’t start this if you aren’t going to see it through”  
“Oh I will see it through” you comment with a grin. Kneeling down and lowering the fabric around his hips, you take his length into your hand and lick along the tip teasingly.  
“Baby you’re so good to me” he hums, leaning against the wall with a hand in your hair.  
“So tell me, where have you been in the world?” you ask, still teasing his tip with your thumb.  
“You really want to have this conversation _now_?”  
“Yes, I insist on having it _right now_ ” With gentle pressure around his cock you search to drive him out of his wits.  
“Well-- you know about South Americ--Ahh” he moans and calls your name desperately as you take his length into your mouth. As you move your head, your mouth sliding around his length, Sam lets out more quiet moans. He allows it only for while, then he demands you to stand up by a gentle pull at your arms and you obey. He helps you out of your bra, and it lands on the bed before his hands are on your breasts again, massaging them gently.  
By your waist he turns you around and you settle facing one of the wooden window panels, safe from the gazes that could be peeping inside. Sam reaches for his pants on the floor, pulling out another wrapped packet from the pocket.  
“Show me where you want it” he demands while rolling the measure of protection over his hardened length.  
Blushing, you look over your shoulder to him but decide to obey. You pull down the remains of your underwear and your hands settle at your core, pulling the entrance slightly apart while your back arches for him to have a better view.  
“This is how I want you, baby” he rasps as he approaches you from behind, settling at your entrance and entering at once. Your reaction comes as a loud moan and he starts moving without restraint. His hands are on your body, one on your waist, one on your breast, running along it naturally, as if it belonged to him. Only once he slows down to slap your ass with his flat hand and you shudder at the sensation it brings. He takes your arms and interlocks them at your back, one of your wrists meeting the other atop of it and he holds both of them in place in a tight grasp. You start feeling it build up in your stomach at the hard thrusts that follow, your face pressed against the wooden panel.  
“Sam” you moan, breathing restlessly as your core releases the sparks, “I’m coming”  
He lets you come, thrusting even harder when you announce it, making you savour the feeling of his cock. Your mind goes blank.  
“What about me, baby?” he whispers in your ear, leaned in, his chest against your back while he still holds your wrists in place. “You’re gonna make me come with that slutty body of yours?”  
“Use me” you answer beneath a gasp, the tingle of the orgasm still affecting you. “Use my body all you like. Fuck me senseless”  
“Good girl. That’s what I want to hear” he says and leans back. His full length slowly slides further inside you until it hits a resistance. You sigh hard, feeling the lust build again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friday morning loving ( **explicit** ) and the last preparations before your trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Source of subconscious inspiration for this chapter (picture)](https://sensualizada.tumblr.com/post/633423235092004864)

In the morning, you wake up before your alarm rings and reach out to your phone on the nightstand. Twenty minutes before you need to get ready.  
It is still dark, and you are undressed. As you look to your side, you see the handsome stranger in your bed sleeping peacefully and smile. It was hard to believe what had happened but it reminded you of the fact that random amazing encounters like this did actually happen.  
Walking over into the kitchen, you take a small bottle of water, open it and drink from it. Walking back to the bedroom, you sit down with both legs onto the mattress on your side of the bed, facing him and sipping your water.

His eyes blink open at the quiet sounds of you drinking and he sighs in relief, smiling.  
“Good morning” he manages to say in his sleepy state.  
“Morning to you, pirate” you reply and hold out the water for him with a grin. “Thirsty?”  
He chuckles and lifts himself up onto his forearms, taking the water bottle and drinking from it. As he sets it off, he looks at you in the darkness that is slowly driven out by the rising sun.  
“I had this dream” he starts, the water bottle set on the nightstand next to him where opened and unopened metallic wrappers lie. As you listen to attentively, he lies down on the bed and by your wrist pulls you into his arms, your back against his chest.  
“There was this woman and she let me do her all night. It was strange because she just wouldn’t let me go. She seduced me, kissed me, went down on me... she was definitely crazy about me.”  
“Was she pretty?” you ask playfully, smiling so much that it almost hurts your cheeks.  
“Very pretty. Most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He nuzzles against the space between your neck and shoulders and sighs happily.

“You know, I could settle for this.” he mumbles quietly and his hand find its way to your hips. As he starts kissing and biting your neck lovingly, you whimper. You feel him rock-hard between your legs.  
“I have to go to work in a bit.” you remind him but his hand squeezes your ass.  
“I’m just kissing you. Can’t I just kiss you?” he reasons, but he is definitely not just kissing you. His fingers run down the curve of your ass until they reach the space between your thighs, grazing along your core that heats up to the touch.  
“Sam” you beg.  
“Let me have something nice to think about while you’re gone.” he explains himself, pulling you in with the arm that lies between the mattress and your neck.  
“I have to get ready in 10 minutes” you warn him, but it only makes him chuckle.  
“Perfect” he concludes and lets two fingers run inside you, making you gasp and grab onto the bed sheets.  
“Sam!” you warn him again but his lips trace up to your ear.  
“I love it when you say my name like that. So desperate” he sighs while his fingers move in you quickly, making you join in the heavy breathing. With his hand around you, he nudges your chin gently with his fingers, making you turn around to look over your shoulder. He lets his fingers slide out of you, taking a more controlled hold of your face and waist, leaning over to kiss you passionately. You sigh at the encounter of his tongue in your mouth. Your lips are still swollen and red from brushing against his short beard while kissing last night but nothing on earth would keep you from kissing this man.  
“Fuck, you’re so hot” he breathes and slips out of the embrace, reaching for an unopened wrapper from the nightstand.  
“Just how many of those did you bring?” you ask, chuckling.  
“Enough to fuck you all night and all morning” he answers with a smirk and opens the wrapping. The condom slides over his hardened length and his arm finds back beneath your neck as he embraces you.  
“That sounds like-- Ahh” you gasp when he enters you from behind and decide to forget what you were about to say.

“Girl, how are you already so wet” he asks teasingly while the sounds of him sliding in and out of you fill the room.  
“You” you answer helplessly, “It’s your fault”  
“If this is a mistake, it’s definitely the best mistake I’ve ever made” he breathes, fucking you harder. You push your hips back against him each time, savouring every thrust into you. When his thrusts become faster, you feel a heat inside you building. His hand fondles and squeezes your breasts, all while the other around your neck keeps you close to him. 

“You’re gonna make me come” you moan, feeling the sparks. In response to your words, his pounding into you becomes relentless, his hand comes from your breasts back onto your hips.  
“Yeah? Come, baby, I wanna hear you” he sighs.  
“Yes-- ahh, yes!” you moan loudly as you come, your fingers digging into the sheets.  
Sam buries his face in the curve of your neck and thrusts into you still harder, and you are surprised how good it feels even though you already came.  
“Hmm, baby” you hum while your hand finds to the side of his face, holding him gently by the place between his jaw and neck. You turn towards him and pull him in for a kiss, but it only lasts a moment before it is interrupted by a broken groan. With his final thrusts, he comes. A sigh follows, he lingers in the sensation but then pulls away, sliding off the condom carefully and snuggling up to you again.

The alarm rings when you catch yourself falling asleep in the comfort of his arms.  
“Told you I would make it.” Sam whispers against your neck without moving or opening his eyes and it makes you chuckle.  
“You’re _proud_ of that?” you question him, then sit up and turn off the alarm. Gathering your underwear from the bed, you start dressing.  
“Well, no” He pulls you back onto the bed just as you get up, “I could make it longer if you want. Maybe eat you out? That’s the kind of breakfast in bed I’d be into.”  
You turn around laughing, and kiss his mouth, which makes him loosen his grip on your arm.  
“We’ll save it for later. I really have to get ready.” you whisper against his lips and he uses the chance to steal another kiss from you.

You part at your door but you know you will see Sam again later and that makes you feel like the happiest woman alive. It feels almost too good to be true when during your lunch break, you see a text from him on your phone saying _I’m thinking of you_.  
_Dirty thoughts?_ you text him back with a grin.  
_Always dirty_ comes as a reply within a few minutes. _But I was also thinking about how beautiful your smile is_ comes an instant later in a separate text. _And your eyes_ , follows a second later. _And your ass, goddamn_ comes another second later and you laugh to yourself, making the Indonesian colleagues with you in the room look at you in surprise. You wave it off, explaining it was just something funny you read.

After some more exchange of texts, Sam tells you that he managed to pinpoint down the exact location of the treasure and that he will pick you up after work. It was Friday evening, so tomorrow was going to be the big day. All that there was left to do was to go and get Vishnu’s crown. 

When you step out of the museum and walk towards the parking lot, you can see Sam dressed in his usual attire for the tropics - dark jeans and a light T-shirt with an open button-down shirt over it - but he is also sporting a pair of black aviator sunglasses while leaning against the car you arranged for your trip. You chuckle as you approach him.  
“You look so cool” you compliment him.  
“I do, don’t I?-- Hey, hey” He grabs your wrists immediately as you try to take the accessory off him, his tone playfully serious, “They are mine. You can get your own sunglasses.”  
“I just wanted to see your face” you say innocently, chuckling as he lets your hands go, “I missed you all day.”  
“No no no” He laughs, his finger gesturing to signal he picked up on the innocent act, “I know your dirty tricks.”  
“They’re not dirtier than yours.” you counter with a grin but he shakes his head and pushes himself of the car. “Where did you get them anyway?”  
“At the market. Close to my hotel actually. We can go there together sometime if you like.” he says and walks over to the driver’s seat. “Come, hop in.”  
You enter at the side of the passenger’s seat with a warm feeling spreading in your chest. Maybe he did not mean anything by it, but it sounded like he genuinely wanted to spend time with you.

As he drives you to your place so you can pick up your things for the journey, you look outside through the window wearing his sunglasses. The setting sun gives the whole scenery the lovely sepia tint that you have become accustomed to during your time here. But today the clouds are thicker and you wonder if it will rain at night, so you take a quick look at the weather app on your phone once more. That chance of light showers at night was still there, but tomorrow it would be sunny. Relieved that there was no signs of any storm, you tug your phone away.

When you look over to Sam who arranges the blind so that the sun does not bother him, you feel a little guilty for making him give up on his sunglasses so easily. He had just handed them to you, without a word, just the hint of a smile on his lips before he started the engine. These little things he did felt so intimate that it gave you the impression he genuinely liked you.  
But there was a sadness in his eyes today that you had not seen before and you could not make sense of it. It could be that he was just focused on driving or worried about the trip.

“Hey” you break the silence quietly and lay a hand on his lap. “You’re alright?”  
“Huh?” He awakes from his thoughts. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”  
But his tone leads you to believe otherwise, it sounds like he was trying to reassure himself.  
“Did you want your sunglasses back?” You take them off and chuckle as you hold them out for him but he waves it off with his left hand that then comes to rest on the gear shift. Something seems off about it. You wonder if he wanted to reach out for your hand instead.  
“No, keep them. They suit you.” he reassures you without any humour in his voice, which worries you.  
“You’re not worried about tomorrow, are you?” You decide to put the sunglasses back on.  
“I’m always worried before the storm hits.” he explains chuckling, but there is something sad about it and the smile vanishes much faster from his lips than usual.  
“It’ll be alright.” you assure him, trying to remind him that there was nothing to worry about, “You did a thorough research, the weather will be fine. And your contacts were also sure about the exact location, right?”  
“Yeah.” he sighs. Suddenly you feel his hand on yours in his lap and smile. You can tell his mind is still troubled but you let it be, giving him the time to go through it in silence.

As the car stops in front of the apartment complex you live at, the silence hits a severe peak.  
“Listen” he says and you lift the glasses to sit on top of your head to see him clearly. His tone worries you so much that your heart starts beating against your chest.  
“I need to talk to you about something.” he announces.  
“About what?” you ask.  
“Let’s go upstairs. I'll tell you there.”  
No signs of humour, no sense of lightness. You feel like you are about to throw up - like he is about to break up with you, which is the first thought that comes into your mind anyway. Maybe _he_ had someone back home. This was all too good to be true, and you were an idiot for hoping it could last.  
“Okay. But...” You swallow, trying to hold back the slight shaking of your hands. He takes your hand and prevents the tremble by placing it onto your thigh, his hand resting atop.  
“Okay.” you say weakly and nod.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam tells you what he has kept to himself.

As you walk up the stairs, the uneasiness increases. You unlock your door and let him in, then close the door and walk to the kitchen counter. With your back against it and your hands resting on the edge, you wait for Sam to speak up.  
“This is... really hard.” He hesitates when he sees you facing him directly.  
“You’re not married, are you?” you ask with a weak chuckle.  
“No. Nothing like that.” he replies. There is a relief in your heart, but the tension is not quite gone.  
“What is it then? What’s wrong?” You frown at him. “Why are you suddenly so distant?”  
He lets his hand run over his face, then drops it again as he walks up to you.  
“Look, this changes nothing about what we have.” he says concerned and his hands hold onto your arms reassuringly. “I never wanted to get you into that mess. Not like this, anyway. There was just no other way.”  
“Sam.” You look at him and try to be patient. “Just tell me already.”

He sighs heavily and steps back, leaning to the counter next to you so that you have to turn your head to face him.  
“The crown isn’t at the shipwreck anymore. It’s been taken.”  
“What?” Instantly you step away from the counter and turn towards him. “Who took it?”  
Sam tilts his head, scratching the short stubble of his beard casually before letting his hand gesture in a self-explanatory movement.  
“The museum.”  
“What?!” You cannot believe what you are hearing.  
“Technically, it was a salvage company that got the whole treasure. But they sold it to the museum. The museum locked it away in their vault in the basement because they thought it’s cursed. Needless to say, this is off the record info.”  
You become quiet as you think over what has been said and trace back to the information you got when you first met.  
“Wait a minute. This is not something you just found out today, is it?”  
You look at him with sad, but hopeful eyes and he returns the gaze, then reaches out to hold onto your hands but you pull away and step away from him.

“You knew this” you burst out and turn your back on him. Your arms cross in front of your chest, then your hand covers your face as you realize the implications. “God, I am such an idiot. This is the only reason you wanted me in on this, isn’t it? You just wanted access to the vault.”  
“No.” he protests and comes up to you from behind, “Yes, I knew this before. Yes, the plan was to get the access card from you. But now I want to do this _with you_.”  
You are still confused and unable to understand the details of his plan.  
“What about the boat? What about the lodge at the coast?”  
“No boat. No lodge either.” he confesses.  
“Then why make up that whole lie?” You are still agitated but you turn around to him. You want to see if he means what he says though you know he might lie again.  
“It was the lure for the museum attendant.” He shrugs, his hand gesturing in the same manner as before. “I thought I will steal the access card to the museum somehow before he knows what I am really up to.”  
“How would you have gotten to the vault?”  
“I don’t know.” He shrugs again, looking helpless. “I was really making this up as I went.”

“God” You are seething with anger. “I can’t believe it. That is why you made that comment about me being a woman! ... God! I’m so stupid.”  
“No, you’re not. You’re kind-hearted and trusting. It’s exactly what I like about you. It takes a lot to stay this gentle and caring.” Sam looks at you as if in pain. As if he actually feels empathetic.  
“Because those traits come in so convenient for you, right? You used me, damn it!”  
“We all use each other, in one way or another.” His gaze is weighed with guilt despite his words.  
“Not like that.” you protest, shaking your head.  
“Have you never made a mistake? Have you never lied to anyone?”  
“Of course I have.” you confess. “But this is different.”  
“Nothing changed.” His voice breaks in like a knife that cuts through flesh. Though the words are gentle, or maybe because they are so gentle, they hurt. He holds onto your arms carefully, trying to appease you. “We’re in this together.”  
“You lied to me, that changed” you remind him.  
“But I’ve told you the truth now, haven’t I? How could I know that I could trust you from the start?”  
You turn your face away from him, your gaze sinking as you contemplate his words.  
“You really mean a lot to me.” He keeps quiet for a moment, then leans in to kiss you but you turn away so that your lips do not meet.

“You’re a thief. I don’t know you.” Your voice is surprisingly calm for being so angry at yourself about your own simple-mindedness. He calls your name softly but you break away from him.  
“Hey” He deliberately takes a gentle hold of your wrists. “Look at me. Just-- just look at me for a second”  
You know you should not but you look up to face him. His hands slide down that little distance to your fingers, ghosting, grazing. Finally he lifts your hands, pressing his lips to where the knuckles meet.  
“My fate is in your hands. I told you everything. I trusted you enough to let you in. Can you trust me now?”  
Your gaze softens for a second, but the doubts come back and you close your eyes. You do not know how you can believe him. Slowly you open your eyes again.

“What--” You have to swallow to stabilize your voice and eventually gain back composure. “What do you want me to do exactly? How is this supposed to go?”  
Sam sighs but instead of answering only looks at you.  
“Sam. What do you need me to do?” you ask again.  
“I need you to get into the vault and steal the crown.”  
Your jaw drops and you stare at him speechlessly.  
“... What? Why me?”  
“There is no other way without getting you into trouble. I can’t get past the security scans with your card. Only you can.”  
“No.” You break off from his hold. “No. I can’t do this.”  
Shaking your head in disbelief, you walk up to the opposite counter. “There must be another way. This is not worth risking my job.”  
He remains quiet, standing behind you.  
“Sam.” Your tone becomes desperate as you turn around to him. “There _must_ be another way.”  
He shrugs somewhat empathetically, leaning back against the counter on his side.  
“I wish there was. I thought of doing this myself, but I would first need to hire someone to analyse that security system... _You_ can breeze right through.”  
“Are you aware of what this means for me?” The consequences are spinning in your head, sending your heart racing. “If they find out I had anything to do with it, that’ll get me into prison. Even if it doesn’t, I will never find a job again.”

“Maybe you don’t need one.” He comes towards you again, standing close enough but obviously not daring to touch you.  
“What are you talking about?”  
“You liked that story of Avery, didn’t you?” he asks calmly, reminding you of your talk the other night. “I could see the sparkle in your eyes when I told you about Libertalia.”  
“What does that have to do with anything?” You remember the story of him finding Libertalia with his brother, and the pirate treasure he managed to find. However much that was, it seemed to cover his expenses well enough for the time being. And yet you were not sure if you really believed that tale.

“How long do you want to live like this? How long do you want to keep doing this job?”  
“I don’t-- I don’t know.” you reply honestly. Though you have thought about it before, there was no clear answer you could give.  
“Did you really want to be stuck in your job for the rest of your life?”  
You lean back against the counter and look at him, unsure how to reply.  
“Well, what choice do I have? Until something better comes along I am stuck with that.”  
“This _is_ something better” he insists, “This is the choice you have. I know you don’t want to be stuck in that boring life where nothing ever happens. You were meant for great things. We were meant to meet. _I_ was meant to meet you.”  
“Sam, please. Don’t ask me to steal the crown.” you beg.  
“Don’t think of it as stealing. Amherst stole it from India, the salvage company stole it and sold it. It doesn’t really belong to anyone rightfully.” he tries to convince you. But your doubts are still there.  
“Why are you doing this to me?” you ask, pained by the thought, feeling pressured.  
“Because I want us to have a good life.”  
“Why can’t we have a good life just as it is?”  
“It’s just-- it’s not enough. You know it isn’t.” he explains. You hesitate to reply.  
“I don’t want to do this without you.” he insists.  
“What if I can’t do this with you? What if I am not in on this?”  
“... I don’t know. I can’t leave without the treasure.” he sighs and the absence of alternate plans tells you more than you want to know. You would have to part ways, he just did not dare to say it.

“I can’t do this. You must understand that I cannot do this.” you say in an almost pleading tone.  
“You’re just scared, baby.” He wraps his arms around you cautiously. “It’ll be okay. I will tell you how to do it. I’ll be with you. I’ll take care of you.”  
Your hands come to lean on his chest. It must be the last time you are touching him like this. The last time you are in his arms.  
“No, Sam.” you reply in a firm tone. “This... I can’t. You have to leave.”  
Again you hear your name being called so gently that it brings the comfort of a home you have never known, making it even harder to stay with your decision. “Take your time to think about it.”  
“There is nothing I need to think about.” You look to your hands on his chest, then back into his eyes. “I can’t do this.”

The door closes slowly while you still face him, the sad look in his eyes not vanishing. And it does not vanish in your head. You lean towards the door and watch him hesitantly leave through the door viewer. Your back leans against it and you let yourself sink to the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The more I go over this, the more I wonder if the beginning is plausible/understandable enough, but I didn't want to overexplain.
> 
> I was also shocked to hear about the Jakarta/Pontianak flight. Thoughts to all the families who lost someone.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You reassess the situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ~~Douchey European techno~~ [Scullious' Leaving](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=snYTKmhH-Jk) set the mood for this and the previous chapter

In the morning you wake up alone in your bed. Saturday morning, the day you were supposed to leave early.  
Every trace of him on your bed and the nightstand is gone. For a second you wonder if you had imagined it altogether. It becomes hard to swallow, the idea that you could have spun that all in your head, that hauntingly beautiful dream. But as you get up and drag yourself into the kitchen, you see his folded up sunglasses next to the flowers in the vase resting on the counter. 

_I’m sorry. Let’s talk it out when you’re ready_ is the text you see on your phone as you drink your morning coffee in the living room. You notice the time stamp on it; he had sent it last night, when you were already asleep. You wonder what there was still left to talk about. You had made your decision and he had made his. Even though you understand him in a way, it does not make things easier.  
You had to get comfortable with the thought, comfortable with being alone again. Your solitude caught up to you again, that very same solitude you did not mind just a week ago but that now felt like the cold grasp of a ghost, wrapping around you illusively and vanishing like smoke in thin air.

You turn on your laptop on the coffee table in front of you and decide to look up information on the crown, after cursing yourself to not have done so much earlier. It was supposed to be just this crazy tourist trip that would have probably turned out to be nothing but expensive diving fun, you had no reason to give the story behind it much thought until now.  
Besides a few articles on mythological references and on what turned out to be fakes of the crown being discovered in the past, you cannot find anything on Vishnu’s crown. Malay pirates were still believed to have taken it. 

So Sam was right about the off the record information - or he was lying again. But you cannot fathom why he would be lying again. Your hand comes to rest on the side of your face, your mind is cluttered with the endless doubts - maybe the crown was not in the vault and you were just a diversion for something else he wanted. Would he really go that far?  
You dislike considering the possibility but it was a natural reaction after losing trust in him. Everything seemed plausible - you hardly knew Sam. The soft part of you wanted to believe and still craved to be with him but you knew you could not let anyone use you like that.  
Suddenly you blush as you remember how he had used your body the other night and the warm fuzzy feeling spreads all the way down to your core.

Sunday morning two missed calls and another text are awaiting you when you wake up.  
_Come on, baby. Let’s just talk this out. I’ll make you chicken on rice, okay?_  
You chuckle and finally decide to text him back.  
_I hate you._  
_Do you really?_ he replies.  
_No. Well, maybe a little._  
_A little is okay. I can deal with that._ he replies and makes you laugh quietly. It is hard to deny the emotional connection you have, no matter what he had done.  
He talks you into meeting up just to talk it out, but you have a strange feeling upon agreeing. You are afraid he will talk you into this. You wonder if he was not right about you from the start. You like the danger, you like the excitement. You truly did not want to be stuck in that job your whole life, it had all gotten a bland taste since the day you met him.

When Sam and you finally see each other again at your door, your gazes meet in sorrow and longing. Your eyes are almost teary as he finally wraps his arms around you. You feel so warm and welcome in those arms that you wonder how you could ever bring up the strength to give that away.  
While holding you closely, his nose nudges against your cheek until you give in and turn your face towards him. He leans in further, his beard brushing against your skin until his lips find yours. You let him, your lips even part to let him into your mouth. It is that taste of burnt cigarettes that you have grown to love that tugs on your heartstrings, leaving a pang of fear and yearning. His play becomes too urging, his hand comes from your waist down to your ass and you break it off before you start losing control.

“You said-- you said we would just talk.” you remind him, your eyes still closed as you try to relinquish the aftertaste of the kiss. You bite your lip, pulling it in just to taste him again.  
“Well. I am a liar.” he reminds you with a chuckle, watching you closely.  
“And a thief.” you add, opening your eyes.  
“And a thief.” he acknowledges with a deliberate nod, a playful smile on his lips, “I don’t know why you let me in at all.”  
His other hand from your waist comes to your lips, ghosting over them as if only to make you give in to the touch. You curse yourself and grab his wrist, then lean in to kiss him violently. He grins and urges you against the kitchen counter. Your tongue invades his mouth and leaves him breathless. A sigh makes you break off the kiss when both of his hands lay on your ass, grabbing you. He turns you around, your arms settle on the empty counter. His hand is between your legs, the touch of his fingers is easily felt through the thin silky-smooth fabric of your lounge pants. You are not wearing any underwear and you are sure he can feel it.  
“This is... too inviting” he remarks with a hinted shaking of his head, his hand finding your outlines through the fabric and soiling it in the process.  
“Please don’t do this to me” you beg, sighing quietly at every movement, every casual tap against your clit.  
“Don’t do what?” He kneels down, letting you feel his mouth at your core, tongue sliding to your opening through the fabric. It comes back to tease your clit, his nose bumps against your opening, all still teasingly against the fabric. You sigh, but bite it back.  
At last he pulls down your trousers to the level of your knees and with his hand on your lower back bends you down further so that you are fully exposed to him. As his tongue reaches your clit, you can no longer hold back the sounds you make. With the lightest pressure he lets it trail the way to your entrance, then sinks into you, his lips pressed firmly against your core.  
“Don’t make me go crazy for you” you plead. Looking over your shoulder, you see him standing up and unfastening his belt, followed by the unzipping of his pants. All of a sudden, you feel his unclothed hardened length against you from behind.  
“We’re long past that point, baby” he whispers into your ear, leaned against you. 

Longingly his hand runs beneath your shirt and he sighs in relief when he gets to squeeze one of your breasts. His hips move against you until his cock is fully hardened, then it all happens in a matter of seconds - his length is covered in thin latex, your pants are around your ankles. He slides inside you with a certain resistance and you moan, clinging to the counter’s edge as you feel him as intensely as never before. It feels good as he stretches you, but you need time to grow accustomed to him again.  
“You’re tight today” he notices with a sigh, seemingly struggling to keep it at the slow pace. Your wetness covers him and he breathes heavily once he can move with more ease.  
“I’m-- ...” _I am aroused since two days like a horny teen_ is what you want to say, but you would not give him that.  
“What was that?”  
“Go to hell” you reply, frowning in annoyance.  
“I’ll stop if you don’t want it” he teases with a grin.  
“No” you answer, tortured. “I want it. I want it so bad.”  
Sam chuckles and grabs your arms in reaction, pulling you towards him while he thrusts inside you without restraint. You gasp for air and whimper at every new thrust into you.

“Did you miss daddy’s cock?” he asks, pulling you up further and leaning in, his hand now wrapped around your throat. You turn your head and meet his gaze.  
“Yes” you answer with a hinted nod, feeling your insides contracting at his words.  
“Say it, baby. I want to hear it” he demands, his length sliding in and out of you, reminding you of how much you missed that feeling.  
“I missed daddy’s cock” you moan, “Daddy’s cock is the best!”  
Sam breathes in deeply as he hears you say it, letting go of your neck and holding you by your hips again. One hand slaps your bare ass, once, and then once more but harder, making you gasp.  
“Sam” you moan in an almost whining tone, “Be good to me”  
He leans over, finding your hands on the counter and placing his atop he holds onto them.  
“I _am_ good to you” he breathes against your neck. You feel deep, slow thrusts inside you and shake your head at the overwhelming sensation. It feels too good to be true.

“I like you so much” you cry out helplessly, regretting it almost instantly. But then his fingers interlace with yours against the back of your hands and your eyes open in surprise.  
“I like you too. I don’t ever want to be without you again” he confesses, his voice calm against your jaw. A tingle is released in your stomach just as he says it.  
“Make me come” you sigh, then moan without restraint as he leans back and thrusts so hard into you that your whole body hits the ceramic plate and your hips bang against the cupboard below. Regardless, one of your breasts is cupped by him again and he squeezes it gently while his other hand is still interlaced with yours. You hold your breath, but eventually the sounds break past your lips.  
“Ah-- yes-- just like that-- I’m coming” you say quickly, then you feel the release approaching.  
“Yes, come for daddy” he encourages you and you come even harder - every time the tip of his cock hits, you are feeling the tingle; it builds, then rushes through your whole body and you come undone in ceaseless moaning. Exhausted, you collapse on the kitchen counter, and distantly feel him thrusting a few more times before he joins your fading excitement in a broken groan. Breathing heavily, his upper body comes to rest against yours, his weight feeling surprisingly comfortable. Or maybe you just like him that much. Which is scary on its own.

It takes a while until you both breathe calmly again, then Sam kisses the space between your jaw and ear and slides out of you, carefully rolling off the used condom in the process. He pulls up your pants first and gives you a gentle slap to your clothed ass, then leans in to plant a kiss to the cheek just where he had hit it. You look over to him with a cheerful grin. Goddamn it. Why was he making you like him so much?  
With dreamy eyes, your arms propped up against the counter, you turn your head and watch him pulling up his underwear and jeans, followed by the fastening of his belt - all from the corner of your eyes, with that sly look over your shoulder so he would not notice it.  
As he is fully dressed, you straighten up and turn around. He comes back up to rest against you as you lean casually against the counter, one of his hands on either side of the surface’s edge. A one-sided, playful smile comes to your lips as his deep gaze is solely on you.  
“Did you mean what you said?” you ask.  
“Every word.” he answers softly and without hesitance. “Did you?”  
“ _Daddy’s cock is the best_?” you ask and laugh. “Yes, yes, I meant that.”  
He grins at you, then pinches your ass and you startle, laughing again.  
“Hey!”  
“That’s what I am spanking you for” he explains.  
“Oh yeah?” you ask, grinning along with him, your arms wrapping around his neck. His hands come to your back and before you know it, he kisses you softly. As you lean back again, you look at him as if you still could not believe this was real.  
“Oh those eyes” he begins and seizes your chin, looking at you mesmerized, “No one has ever looked at me that way. Save for my brother when he was little maybe.”  
You cannot help but smile at his words. A short while you look at each other happily but then your smile vanishes and you lower your gaze as you are reminded of what you wanted to talk about before you got distracted. It takes a while and a good amount of courage until you can face him again.

“Sam, be honest. How many women have you done this to?” you ask him with a pleading look.  
“None.” His answer comes much faster than expected, so that you look at him in doubt.  
“What? You said women, right?” he asks.  
“... You’ve done this to _men_?”  
“Not in the way you think. I’ve lied my way through some things. But this is different.” His voice is soft but still leaves room for doubt. As you stare at his chest, your hands come back to lay onto that very space that you thought you would not get the chance to touch again.  
“I want to help you. But... I don’t know. I just don’t know.” you start.  
“It’s okay. I can try to do this on my own.” he replies, his tone caring, contradicting the heaviness of his words. His hands wrap around your hips, and you feel too safe for your own liking. You would fall and he was making you feel like it was okay.

“How will you get inside? How will you even get to the basement unnoticed?”  
“I don’t know.” Sam answers with another chuckle. “I’ll think of something. Maybe I’ll just break in the old-fashioned way. Or create some sort of diversion.”  
A few shy, flirty gazes are exchanged between the two of you, then you sigh in defeat.  
“You know I can’t let you do that. I don’t want you to get caught.”  
“Well I can’t have you do it.” he starts with a soft resigned laugh, but then becomes quiet and serious. “I can’t lose you.”  
“... You’re terrible.” you judge playfully, leaning into his chest and wrapping your arms around his waist. He takes you in immediately, his hand around the back of your head, the other on your back.

“It’s alright. If you tell me how to do it, I will do it. I don’t know if this will work out though. But if you really need it, I will help you.” Your eyes finally close as you feel his arms safely around you. “I don’t want you to get in trouble.”  
“Are you sure about this? I mean-- I don’t want you to feel like I’ve talked you into th--”  
“You better stop talking before I change my mind.”  
“Alright, alright.” he appeases, running his hand over your head with a smile on his lips. “It’s easy, believe me. It’s not that big, you can just put it in your handbag.”  
With your eyes still closed, you chuckle to yourself, enjoying the caressing of his hand.  
“Oh? I thought we were talking about the crown here.”  
“What? We are-- wait--” Sam’s hand stops and he chuckles along with you before he feigns offence. “What do you mean _it’s not that big_?!”  
You shrug playfully, laughing.  
“ _I_ didn’t say that.”  
“You know, that kind of hurts my feelings.” he admits in a tone that appears to be only half-serious.  
“Does it?”  
“Well” Sam clears his throat, and you could swear you heard a harsh undertone vanishing. “I’ve brought a replacement for you too.”  
Your start laughing quietly, but cling to his shirt so he does not get a chance to leave your side. With narrowed eyes, he frames your face with both of his hands to make you look at him.  
“This stopped being funny a minute ago.” he states sharply though with the hint of a grin, and you react by smiling at him sweetly.  
“I was just joking. I wouldn’t need any replacement. You’re really big.” you reassure him sincerely.  
“Really?” He sounds almost excited, though manages to leave you wondering how much it really means to him - until he suddenly shrugs it off. “I mean, I know. But-- it’s good to hear it.”  
You nod cautiously and he lets his hands run towards your shoulders. As he studies your gaze quietly, he looks worried.  
“What is it?” he asks empathetically. Surprised that he can pick up any trace of doubt just by looking at you, it takes you a moment to speak up.

“Can’t you... can’t we somehow pull it off without the damn thing?” Just as you voice your request, he calls your name out softly.  
“I’ve made a contract, I gotta follow through. You know what it’s like to live up to your word, right? You take your promises seriously, so do I.” he explains, reminding you of your own words on the night you first met for dinner.  
“I really want to do this with you. I know what you are thinking -- and I feel bad for dragging you into this. But I want you with me. And after this we can go wherever you want.”  
“Wherever I want? That sounds too good to be true. How can I know that I can trust you?”  
“I guess you can’t.” he replies with a defeated smile. “But do you really think I would leave alone with a treasure _you_ stole for us? I am all sorts of things, but I am not that kind of man.”  
Your searching gaze tries to read his reaction, but all you get is hints. He does not flinch, his features stay soft.  
“If you’re lying to me about that, I will drown you where that shipwreck is.”  
“I’m not lying.” he reassures you, “But please do drown me if I am ever so stupid to leave you.”


End file.
